


The Scent of Sex and Death

by 823freckles



Series: Bleed to Love You [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood Kink, Dark, F/M, More Porn (mostly) without plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/823freckles/pseuds/823freckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scent of Alana Bloom intoxicates Hannibal Lecter.</p>
<p>Day 6 of 30 Days of Hannibloom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of Sex and Death

Even from across the room, the intoxicating scent of Alana Bloom stood out.

He first smelled lavender and almonds. That was her face wash. Her neck smelled of blood orange and bergamot, her cologne. Honey and shea was her shampoo, and her skin, oh, her skin smelled of salt and strawberries, her favorite fruit. He’d watched her suckle on the juicy red fruit as she cooked with him, staining her lips red, and he’d spent the next hours cooking with the start of an erection as he’d imagined those red lips sucking him. 

Underneath the mix of manufactured and natural scents she emanated was her own scent. The scent of Alana. Exquisite, woman, all blood that beat in time with her pulse. And lust, of course. Now he could smell lust, that sweet, heady smell that flowed from the growing dampness between her thighs.

He walked across the foyer to where Alana conversed with the newest conductor of the Baltimore Lyric Opera. Her face shone with the joy of her first successful dinner party, a pleasure he was quite familiar with and that he relished.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the hostess is needed in the kitchen.”

The conductor tipped his head and said, “Of course. It was my pleasure, Alana.”

Hannibal gently grasped Alana at the elbow and led her to his large kitchen, then through the door into the cellar.

“Hannibal, what-“

He cut her off with a kiss.

She tasted like “beef” roulade, the meat supplied by a rude, cheating, and now rather delectable mechanic. He felt himself swell against the zipper of his dress pants at the taste, and he pressed his growing erection against her.

She groaned in response. “Now, Hannibal?” Have you no self-control?” she teased.

“You desire me. I could smell it from well across the room, my dear.”

She breathed against his mouth, releasing more of that delicious scent of flesh. “You’re right, of course.” She placed a quick peck to his lips. “But the waiters could walk in here at any moment.” 

Hannibal pulled away and turned the lock to the cellar. 

She grinned. “Against the door?”

A dark thought flitted across Hannibal’s mind. “No, follow me.” He led her deeper into the recesses of his cellar to a place he’d shown no one who would live before.

He was going to take her, fuck her up against the butcher block where he’d cut off Miriam Lass’s arm.

Among others.

He led her to the large table in the back of his dimly lit cellar. He did not switch on the overhead lights as he might have during butchering. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the musky scent of old blood and sharp fear from the block. 

“A butcher block?” she questioned as her eyes scanned the butchering implements and the table. Her eyes held no fear, only curiosity.

“For when I have large cuts of meat, yes. Did you know I donate cuts to a local homeless shelter each week?”

She licked her lips. “You never fail to surprise me with your graciousness, Hannibal Lecter. Now come here.” She backed against the table and beckoned to him.

He went to her, wrapping his long arms around her, and unzipped her strapless navy dress. The dress pooled to the floor as he unzipped his own fly. He pulled out his erection. He couldn’t wait tonight; there was no time for foreplay. She must have sensed his desperate need, because she wrapped one leg around him and pulled him close.

He reached between their heated bodies and shoved aside her thong. Then he entered her in one quick movement. She gasped against his neck and then started thrusting her hips in time with his thrusts. He grasped the butcher block and rode her against it. He knew the wooden edge must be digging into her thighs, and he hoped it hurt. He hoped she loved the pain.

He bit her neck as he got close, and she cried out. The metallic scent of fresh blood mingling with the old filled the air. He licked the trickle of blood on her neck, then kissed her, letting her taste her own blood on his tongue. She moaned against his lips and sucked his tongue into her mouth.

He breathed in the scent of sex and death as he got close, closer, feeling his orgasm building in his scrotum. 

“Hannibal, we smell so goooood,” she breathed against his throat. Thus he came, filling her with his hot load in his cellar of death.

**Author's Note:**

> This got rather dark, rather fast. I do not apologize. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of my little porny story!


End file.
